


If you love me...

by hongpikachu



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Angst, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, betweenyouandme, implied depression
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-18
Updated: 2016-10-18
Packaged: 2018-08-23 05:47:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8316187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hongpikachu/pseuds/hongpikachu
Summary: ... let me go.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Sillage - the "wake" or the trail left in the sky by an airplane or on the water by a boat; the trace of someone's perfume; the scent that lingers in the air after something or someone has been there before you and gone

It’s five o’clock in the morning and the first thing Jihoon does is take a glance at the calendar.

 

_ July 19. _

 

A soft sigh manages to escape Jihoon’s dry lips while he gets out of bed as if his body has been controlled by an unseen outside force. It goes on just like any other normal day. He brushes his teeth and heads to the kitchen to see what he could grab for breakfast. A few minutes at that, he caught a faint stench of blood and forgets about his hunger, deciding to check up on the living room.

 

The television was still on, but he can clearly see that Seungcheol was sprawled on the couch, dozing off like a baby. His clothes supposedly looked like any other formal business suit, except the tie was crooked, coat inside out, and the shirt underneath all filled with creases. There were soju bottles too on the table before him. Jihoon shakes his head at the sight.

 

At this point he wasn’t sure about how he felt for Seungcheol. He’s seen this view countless times and all he could think of was that he cared for him because he loves him. The former had everything Jihoon could ask for. He was able to have a stable job that can pay the bills, outgoing and friendly, and he could handle Jihoon’s unusual ways of showing affection (aka sarcasm, sulking, and stealing glances). 

 

But there were no perfect lovers, and he was well aware that despite having a lot of strong points, it was compensated with either one huge weak point or equally numerous but minor weak points. For Seungcheol, it was the former. He had a drinking problem.

 

Of course both of them earn a lot from their high-paying jobs, both in the industry of music and business. But sometimes Jihoon wishes that they don’t earn as much for the sake of the alcohol being still in the bottles and on the convenience store’s shelves instead of being downed into Seungcheol’s entirety.

 

_ 4… 3… 2… 1 _

 

As if on cue, the said man on the couch wakes up with a groan and lazily makes his way to the shower, palms stuck on the wall in order to maintain his balance. The hangovers are the most painful to watch, Jihoon recalls. 

 

_ Seungcheol… I’m here. Look at me… _

 

But the other continues walking as if Jihoon wasn’t inches from his side, standing on the hallway. He takes a good look at his boyfriend, who immediately stopped on his tracks. There was emptiness in his eyes, and his hair was tousled. Jihoon once thought that this side of his lover was sexy, but this time, it was something horrifying. As if he was someone else who just looks like Seungcheol.

 

Jihoon wants to cry, but he can’t. He probably has gotten used to this sight of Seungcheol, he thinks, as the once painful feeling in his chest has worn off, day by day as the same familiar sight greets him. 

 

Pity. It’s all that’s left of Jihoon as he sees the man who has now just entered the shower. He caught a glimpse of his bare arm and all he could see were gashes with dried blood. The glance then averts to the window on the other side of the room and sees a vehicle with a broken windshield. As to why Seungcheol still has that vehicle, he will never know.

 

-

 

The rest of the day was monotonous. Seungcheol left for work, if he still had his job, while Jihoon went out to get a breath of fresh air. Of his twenty-one years of existence, never has he thought that there would be a point in his life where he’d get tired of breathing air.

 

As if his body was controlled, he walks on the same busy streets of Hongdae, getting tired of the familiar faces he encounters at this kind of day, the conversations that he has probably memorized in order, the moment when the red light turns orange, then green. He knows he’s seen this sight already, and all he wants is to get away and be free.

 

-

 

In the evening he comes home to find that Seungcheol has not arrived. At this point, he’s not surprised. He was always used to late nights without Seungcheol after a year and a half of their relationship. It was when he was always cooped up in his studio at home while the other was busy working overtime and sends a text promising that he’d make it up to Jihoon during the weekend.

 

The last of those promises caused their demise.

  
  


-

 

Jihoon can still recall everything in his head. It was like any other normal weekend date they’d have. The sunday summer breeze was beautiful and it felt like nothing could go wrong. And yes, for the rest of the day, nothing did. They spent it on a fancy waterpark, had to go for a couple of rides and took a lot of pictures just like how couples would normally do. They spent the rest of the night in a hotel and agreed to take off the next day. 

 

Seungcheol had work by nine so they had to leave at five thirty in the morning to head home. The drive was peaceful with Jihoon’s composed tracks playing on the stereo (as Seungcheol claims to be his boyfriend’s number one fan), the sunrise looked refreshing and captivating over the hills, and nature was immensely serene. 

 

Then the unthinkable happened.

 

On a blind curve, their joy was halted when a loud horn blared and a high-beam light met their gazes. A huge truck lost control and collided with Seungcheol’s vehicle. The rest was a blur after that. Only the stench of crude oil, the sound of an ambulance car, and the warmth of Seungcheol’s hand on his was all he could remember before he blacked out.

 

As he finished recalling the events, Seungcheol returns home with another batch of beer bottles. Where he gets the funding from all of this remains a mystery, but Jihoon couldn’t care less. He tried not to care less when he hears Seungcheol saying his name, chanting it over and over again.

 

The chanting only stops when Seungcheol takes in a faint tinge of incense then passes out in his drunken stupor. Tonight, however, Jihoon genuinely tried to care. But he can’t. 

 

After ninety-nine repeats of the same bland day, the day after they got discharged from the accident, even after trying out different variations, it always ends the same for Jihoon. Tomorrow he hopes for something different.

 

Jihoon wants Seungcheol to move on.

 

\--

 

It’s five o’clock in the morning and the first thing Jihoon does is take a glance at the calendar.

 

_ July 20. _

 

Jihoon wakes up to an unfamiliar place, yet instead of fear, all he has is a sense of peace. No tinge of the scent of blood. No more bad memories. No more Choi Seungcheol.

 

_ Thank you for finally letting my soul depart in peace, Seungcheol. _


End file.
